


in the shadow of your heart

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Breakup, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Guitars, apology, for someone i care about, musical!thirteen, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-25 13:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19746892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Doctor's never found it easy to open up to anyone, least of all someone who's in love with her.





	in the shadow of your heart

_ ‘A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes.’ _

Yaz stops, caught in a net by the gentle lullaby of lyrics drifting from the door to her left. It’s ever so slightly ajar. The Doctor’s bedroom.

_ ‘I screamed aloud, as it tore through them, and now it's left me blind.’ _

Now that she’s closer, Yaz can make out strums of a guitar, chords sounding through the air. She takes another step toward the door, as silent as can be. Partly because she doesn’t want to be discovered listening in on her, but mostly because she doesn’t want to disturb the Doctor in the middle of such a gorgeous song. She leans forward, glancing through.

The Doctor’s sat cross-legged on the floor of her room, gently swaying her shoulders in time with the music. Blonde locks are swept behind her ear, brows furrowed ever so slightly in concentration and passion. Her eyes are closed, and her white sleeves are rolled up to reveal toned muscles underneath. Her fingers change positions and patterns as she shifts chords, each strum even gentler than the last. 

_ ‘The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out.’ _

Yaz’s heart breaks, if possible, even further. She didn’t think it was possible for the Doctor to be even more  _ beautiful _ than she already is. The guitar, she notices, can’t be from Earth, the way it shimmers and catches the burnt orange light. 

_ ‘You left me in the dark.’ _

Just why was she singing this? If anything, Yaz thinks, that’s more how she feels right now. The Doctor was her stars and her moon, and they all faded away into the vast nothingness of space, leaving her drifting, not quite sure of where she stands.

_ ‘No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight.’ _

The Doctor, meanwhile, loves with all her hearts, fiercely, but she never lets herself get too attached. Yaz knows why, or at least the Doctor had given her some reason why. Two thousand years. It’s a lot longer than nineteen. She 'can’t let anyone love her.' But that  _ couldn’t _ stop Yaz from loving the Doctor any more than she always had.

_ ‘In the shadow of your heart.’ _

And here she is, still travelling with her. Still her friend, along with Graham and Ryan. Always in the shadow of her love, always having to hide how she still feels. She suffers through that because she knows it’s ever so slightly less painful than losing the Doctor altogether.

Yaz screws her eyes shut, her lashes catching a tear before it can fall. The orange light doesn’t fade from behind her eyelids despite how black it feels around Yaz. So alone with so many friends.

She doesn’t even notice the fact that the music’s stopped until she opens her eyes again. The Doctor’s standing, adjusting her braces, guitar slung over her shoulder. Her head is tilted, blonde hair falling just over her shoulder, and her brows are furrowed in the same expression of concern as when she was playing. ‘You been there long, then?’

Yaz musters her best smile and shrugs. ‘Florence and the Machine fan?’

‘Fan?’ She scrunches her nose up as carefree as ever, though there’s a glint in her eyes, like she knows there’s more up. But she doesn’t want to talk about it. ‘I helped write that one.’

Yaz breathes a laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘Really?’ She has  _ so _ many stories. Is there anything this woman hasn’t done?

‘I was different back then, mind. Pinstripe suit. And I’d just lost someone close to me.’

Maybe that’s why she pushed Yaz away. She didn’t want to risk getting hurt again. It takes all of Yaz’s resolve not to hold her by the shoulders and tell her that  _ she’d _ never hurt her. But either way, she can’t work out what’s going on inside the blonde’s head, behind that goofy grin. 

‘It’s a good song,’ she says, rather weakly. 

‘Come in, Yaz. Music’s no fun without someone to listen! How does my voice sound this time? Does the northern help?’

Yaz steps in, her lips forming into a smile involuntarily. Every step makes her heart feel heavier in her chest. ‘You sound good, Doctor. Really good.’

‘Shall I play you a song?’ She swings the guitar back around using the strap.

Yaz isn’t sure her poor heart can take any more, but despite that, she  _ yearns  _ for more. More time, no matter how heartbreaking it is. She nods. ‘I’d like that.’ 

The Doctor grabs a star--dusted cushion from the bed and lets it drop onto the floor. Yaz gently lowers herself down onto it, the two travellers sitting cross--legged.

‘You got any requests?’

Yaz’s mind goes blank the instant the Doctor asks. Why does that always happen to her? She’s always utterly mesmerised by anything the Doctor does. At first, she told her it was because she’s an alien, because they’re time travelling everywhere and she’s not used to it. Well, she is used to it now, and yet she still ends up caught in the gentle snare of marvelling at the Doctor. Maybe it’s because she just is marvellous, in everything she does, in her beliefs, in her passions and her smile. Or maybe Yaz is just totally smitten.

The Doctor’s still looking at her expectantly five seconds later.

‘O-Oh, uh. Sure, yeah.’

The Doctor just smiles at that. ‘Mind telling me what it is?’

… 'Open up to me, Doctor.'

The Doctor just sighs softly at that. Not in a patronising or exasperated way. No, it's in a way that's so understanding and empathetic that characterises the Doctor so perfectly. Like she knew that this was coming. 'Yaz. We've already talked about this.'

'No, we haven't. You've given me the vaguest, most contradictory answers every time I've brought it up.'

'I don't exactly  _ want _ to talk about it, Yaz.' She keeps her tone gentle, not confrontational in the slightest.

'I have to. It doesn't feel like there's been any…' Yaz shifts forward on her cushion, eyes wide, pleasing. 'Closure. At all.'

The Doctor bites her bottom lip, brows furrowed in a worried expression. 'Talk, then.'

'Promise me you'll answer me.'

'I always do, Yaz.'

'No.' Yaz can't help but feel like she just isn't getting through to the blonde. 'No, not quite. You’re always so vague or… just tell me what you think I want to hear. I can handle the  _ truth, _ I promise you. So you promise me too.'

The Doctor looks hesitant, head tilted. Her gaze drifts around the room, from the walls to her hands to the star-dusted ceiling. Anywhere but Yaz's eyes until the very last minute. Those green irises seem to go on forever, and Yaz could just sink into them so comfortably. 'I promise,' she murmurs.

Yaz finally has the floor, to express all of those inexpressible feelings swirling and raging around in her chest and yet… They're just that. Inexpressible. Where does she possibly start? 'Well…' she tries, though it doesn't help much. She takes a steady breath, sitting up. 'Being with you… The time we've had together. It's been incredible. The best months of my life, Doctor.'

The Doctor gives her another sad look with those wide puppy eyes. They always say that.

'And you, you're so wonderful and kind and lovely and— and beautiful. Not just you but… your soul.' She cringes at herself. 'That probably sounds horribly cheesy.'

_ 'Yaz,'  _ the Doctor prompts, bringing her back to reality. 'Go on.'

The next breath Yaz takes is slightly less steady. 'You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and… it feels like I'm losing you and I just don't know why.'

'I've told you, Yaz. I live for thousands of years. You're only nineteen. You won't be able to spend the rest of your life with me.'

'But I don't care about that, I've told  _ you. _ I want time with you, no matter how long. Please tell me you understand what I'm saying.' Yaz instinctively reaches for the Doctor's hand just in front of her, but the Doctor pulls it away before Yaz can hold her. Yaz's heart shatters even further.

'I just can't.'

'But that's  _ not a reason, _ Doctor! Please.' Yaz wills tears not to fall. ‘It's not just the being refused, it's the lack of reasoning. I don't know  _ why _ because it changes every time you tell me. There's  _ no _ closure, and being stuck drifting in outer space is a horrible feeling.’

'Alright, well. I can't let you love me. There.' She shrugs, reaching a hand up to scratch the back of her neck. 

'But why?'

'Because I don't deserve it.' The Doctor shrugs again, avoiding eye contact. it doesn't sound like just an excuse this time, though, and Yaz's heart sinks even further in her chest.

'B-But… But Doctor, you're… You're so kind and amazing and—'

'No, I'm really not. You don't know some of the things I've done. Still makin' up for them, really.'

'I don't care about you then, I care about you now. And I  _ know _ the person in front of me is the best person I've ever met. The person who I love.'

'Yaz, it's only been a few months.'

'That's still enough time for me to know. I'd do anything for you.' Yaz wishes there was some way to prove it, some way more than just sitting here and saying it. She'd jump in front of a bullet for her Time Lord.

'I never wanted to be the kind of person to ask anything like that of anyone.'

'That's just what makes you so special, Doctor.' Yaz reaches for the Doctor's hand, this time successfully. Her skin is unbelievably soft despite all of the mechanical and heroic work she does every day. 'You wouldn't ask anything of anyone. I'm here  _ offering.'  _ Yaz squeezes the Doctor's hand ever so lightly.

The Doctor’s hearts melt, just a little. ‘You really won’t let this go, will you Yaz?’

Yaz hesitates, thinking. No, she doesn’t want to let it go. Not just because she doesn’t want to lose her — oh, how she doesn’t want to lose her — but because she still doesn’t entirely understand. And yet… Yaz is scared, too. Scared she’s being too pushy. Not respecting the Doctor’s limits and boundaries. How do you show someone you’d do anything for them when they ask you to do nothing? ‘I’m sorry.’

The Doctor hesitates, too, before she finally squeezes Yaz’s hand in return. Yaz’s eyes are drawn to the muscles in the Doctor’s arm that tense as she does so. ‘It’s okay. But… I can’t promise anything. I just can’t.’

‘I’m not asking you to, Doctor.’ Yaz’s voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. ‘I’m just asking for another chance. For something.’

Only a few moments pass, but to Yaz it feels like a whole star could have been born and gone supernova in the time it takes for the Doctor to reply. ‘Let me play you something. I’m not… always the best with actual words. Not in this sort of situation anyhow.’

She swings the guitar back around, strumming once over all the strings just to check the noise. The chord that resonates throughout the room is all too familiar to anyone who’s picked up a guitar even once. Then she sets her fingertips in the right places, brows furrowed gently in concentration, and then she starts to play.

_ ‘I took you to a diner when, _

_ I couldn't find another friend, _

_ We laughed and then you dodged my hand, _

_ I knew right there and then, _

_ I couldn't help it.’ _

Yaz listens, once again utterly hypnotised by the lull of the Doctor’s voice and the melodies of her guitar. She sounds divine, like she could be a famous singer multiple times over. She probably was.

_ ‘Was it heaven or outerspace? _

_ Cause you must be from some other place. _

_ Your eyes won't let me go, _

_ I can't help it, no. _

_ So I hope that it's okay with you, _

_ Cause there's really nothing I can do, _

_ Your eyes won't let me go, _

_ I can't help it, no.’ _

Yaz leans forward while the Doctor finishes the rest of the song. When she strums the final note and trails off into silence, Yaz has to remember to shut her open mouth. ‘Did you help write that one, too?’

‘Nah. I’ve just got Spotify.’ She beams a little. ‘Outerspace, by Catey Shaw. Should really go meet her one day.’

Yaz laughs, drawn in once again by the Doctor’s natural talent for making people smile and distracting from the main topic at hand. She shakes her head, trying to clear it. ‘Doctor… What did that mean? That song?’

The Doctor’s gaze falls to the guitar, and she drums her fingers awkwardly on the instrument. ‘Oh, y’know. Just that… I do really like you, too.’ Is she blushing? ‘And… if you’re absolutely one hundred percent sure you know what you’re getting into…’ She draws her gaze from the guitar up into Yaz’s eyes, and the police officer almost forgets to breathe. ‘Then I’m okay with it. With us.’ 

‘You’re - I - you’re not kidding?’ Yaz all but whispers. 

The Doctor’s lips curl into a concerned frown when she notices the salty sheen of tears lacing Yaz’s pupils, suddenly wondering whether she’d gotten the entirely wrong end of the stick. ‘Wait, that’s — that’s what — did I read this wrong? Why are you crying? Did I -- did I make you cry? Yaz, you’re  _ crying _ .’

Yaz can’t help the sniffly laugh which tumbles from her mouth, natural curls falling over her shoulders when she ducks her head to wipe her tears away. She’s stopped, however, mid-movement, by a pair of gentle hands. 

‘Look at me,’ the Doctor instructs softly, waiting until Yaz lifts her gaze and settles into the warm, comforting hold of her palm. She strokes a thumb tenderly under her eye, wiping away the remains of tear-stained, flushed skin. 'Wait — you’re laughing now. Yaz, I’m confused.'

The utterly lost glaze to her pupils and the confused frown set like lead paint to her lips makes Yaz pause, reaching up to rest her hand over the one now cupped against her cheek. She smiles, something akin to surprise raising her brows.'They’re happy tears, and I’m laughing because for someone who’s fought armies of Daleks and been tried as a witch more than once, this is the first time I’ve actually seen you look scared.’

‘Scared, Yaz? I’m  _ terrified _ ,’ the Doctor admits, lashes fluttering, gaze dropping. Suddenly, the slow slope of Yaz’s bottom lip seems like the most interesting detail the universe has to offer. 

‘Need some help taking the first step into the unknown?’ Yaz murmurs, fully aware of the sudden purchase the Doctor’s gaze has taken. She wets her lips, a mostly subconscious motion, tilting her head when the Doctor swallows thickly around a mess of emotions. Nervousness seems to top the rest. 

‘I think I could take a leap at it,’ the Doctor counters seconds before she closes the distance between their bodies, her lips meeting Yaz’s both eagerly and tentatively. She has to blink behind closed lids for a moment while she deciphers the fireworks bursting to life before her pupils, putting their sudden appearance down to the lips now finding purchase against her own. 

Scenarios of this moment, of which there have been many, could never compare to the way the Doctor kisses her, the passion and ferocity usually stored for powerful speeches and brave actions mixing in with the Doctor’s instinctive gentle nature in a potion Yaz finds too potent and alluring to resist. 

Although, she finds, when green eyes give way to dark, heady pools of unyielding desire, she doesn’t exactly want to. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading x this short thing means a lot to me hdfgjhk  
> thank you again to timelxdy for not only betaing but pretty much writing the last few lines!!! idk where I'd be without you <3


End file.
